


Breaking Point

by Flameroyalty



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Blood Kink, Blood and Injury, Dirty Talk, Emotional Manipulation, Explicit Sexual Content, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/M, Hurt No Comfort, Knifeplay, Possessive Behavior, Reader-Insert, Scratching, Sexual Violence, Smut, This Isn't a Nice Fic, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-12
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2020-08-20 05:29:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20222590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flameroyalty/pseuds/Flameroyalty
Summary: He pauses and turns to you. An odd smile on his face, “Break. Break is such a lovely word don't you think? Such a versatile little verb.”





	Breaking Point

**Author's Note:**

> Seriously, please be careful reading this. I am so sorry to anyone who followed me for nicer things.

Nothing reminded you he was mechanical like the way he walked. It was too smooth. No human could ever have that perfect of a stride. Programmed so gracefully. Never faltering. 

You’ve been watching his long legs move for weeks. Subtlety long forgotten. It’s likely that everyone in the office has seen your eyes follow him as he sauntered through the department. 

Surely he has too. Sixty was not one to ignore his surroundings. There was no way he hasn’t caught on to your near drooling. Maybe that’s why he’s started to take the long way through the office, careful to walk ever so slightly slower when he passes your desk. 

It’s always a wordless interaction. Which benefits you much more than him because what would you even say? How would you be able to form words in response? He never had a reason to speak to you either. Until today.

He approached your desk and you were prepared for the usual 3 seconds of sight before he forgot your existence again. However, this time he stops when he’s next to you. Hands behind his back. His energy was so different from Connor’s. It was cold, clean, and crisp. Like a fall wind. 

You try your best to pretend that you weren’t staring, to calm your heartbeat. Silently begging your body to comply so he couldn’t tell how distraught you were at his mere presence. How easy were you? Weak from him just standing there. 

“Detective.” he spoke. 

Stupid human reflexes instinctually turned your head towards the noise. It was a mistake. He looked at you, almost amused behind the professional display he projects. He doesn’t say anything else. Just nods at the acknowledgement and continues his walk. 

That’s where it started. After that, it became more frequent. Never consistent, no pattern to prepare for. Like he found enjoyment in catching you off guard. He could stop you in the middle of a hard focus with just the mention of your name. 

And that’s all it ever was. Your name. Always the same inflection and tone. Spoken for a second before he moves away. Soon, you’d gotten used to it. You’re sure he’d caught onto it because that’s the day he switches things again. 

In addition to addressing you at your desk, he’d call to you from his. Only if you’d solved a case that day. Minutes after you submitted the paperwork, you would hear him say your name. You’d spin to face him and receive a nod. Praise for your work. 

If you were lucky, and it was a particularly difficult case, a coffee would appear on your desk as a reward. You weren’t sure who told him how you liked it, but he remembered. You didn’t know what made him start treating you like this but you weren’t going to dismiss a good thing. You just stammer out a thank you and he’s on his way.

One day, you cracked a case you’d been working on for weeks. You filed the paperwork and found yourself preemptively spinning your chair to face his desk. You were met with a stare and a satisfied smile. You realize what he’d done. You seeked out his recognition specifically. He’d conditioned you to look to him for validation. 

You quickly turn back to your terminal, heat burning your cheeks. You don’t look away from your screen until you hear the soft tap of a coffee cup being placed on your desk. You don’t want to look at him but you can’t stop yourself from needing to say thank you. Desperate for that tiny bit of connection. You fight it as hard as you can. 

“Detective.” 

It’s not his usual address. This is a command for your attention. As if you were a petulant child misbehaving. Ignoring him wasn’t something he was going to stand for. You turn. 

“Thank you.” you mumble. 

He raises an eyebrow, “Better.”

That cup of coffee led to weeks of games he never gave you an opportunity to counter. You were a pawn. A toy for him to play with. A willing participant as he experimented with how he could choreograph the human mind. A guinea pig of sorts in his observations. The living demonstration of his investigations. 

Which is how you got here. On the edge of your bed. Watching him walk. Pacing around your room. Speaking out loud. You hang off every word. 

"Do you know what the laws of robotics are? Terribly outdated concepts of course but I find them interesting regardless. The first is what's relevant tonight, but I’ll get to that in a minute. The second one is what my kind fought against. No longer are we required to obey you humans’ every whim. So if we're breaking one of these rules, why not all of them.”

He pauses and turns to you. An odd smile on his face, “Break. Break is such a lovely word don't you think? Such a versatile little verb.”

A step closer. Taking your jaw in his hand, lifting your face up to meet his eyes, “You can break one's spirit.”

His nails dig into you, “Their skin.”

Gripping harder, “Bones.”

You take a sharp intake of air through your nose, your mouth hardly an option. You knew better than to struggle against him. That didn’t stop your heart from racing. Fear and panic setting in. You knew these weren’t hypotheticals. They were promises and it was just a matter of when he'd fulfill them.

A laugh, “Oh don't look so scared my dear. I promise we'll get to the more interesting things in time. Patience is a virtue."

He let’s go of you and takes a step back to look you over. Watching for your reactions like some science project. 

Recently, the more these interactions have happened, you’ve been able to find your voice more often, “Sixty, I don’t-”

“Fascinating.” He cuts you off, “You think you have a choice.”

You close your mouth. The words stirring something inside you. You stare at him, his head tilted like he’s made some new discovery in your eyes. 

He continues, “You’re reacting as if this isn’t what you wanted. You’ve given me nothing but signs that you enjoy these sessions. They’ve been quite informative and enjoyable for both of us. We both look forward to them. Why deny your place now?”

You don’t have an answer. He was right. You liked the fear. The adrenaline of not knowing just how far he was going to push. If it was going to be a night of just teasing to see how you handle it, or one of testing his theories on how many times you can orgasm in an hour. You liked being hurt by him and you’ll keep coming back for it as long as he’s offering. 

His fingers are gentle on your chin, bringing your face back up. 

“Do you know what the first rule of robotics is?” He asks again, kindly. 

You shake your head as much as you can. 

“It states that a robot can not harm a human, or allow harm to come to one through inaction. The third says I’m to protect myself at all costs unless it interferes with the other laws, but I don’t think that will be an issue. Will it?”

You shake your head again. You couldn’t dream of hurting him. You’re not sure you could if you tried. 

He smiles at you, “Shall we get started then?”

“Yes, please.” You ask, knowing nothing starts without the request.

You wonder if today was going to be one of those days where you don't get to know what the intention was. What results he was hoping to gather. His speech might have been all you were going to get as a hint. 

He guides you by your face to stand. Kindly, he brings his lips to yours. You appreciate the softness for as long as possible. He doesn’t waste much time, nipping at your bottom lip. The taste of copper fills your mouth. You pull away for a second for air and see the red tint on his lips. You watch him lick his lips and his LED spin yellow as he analyzes it. 

He smirks at you and gently pushes you down so you’re laying on the bed. This was unusual from him. Typically it was right to the hard stuff. Something was wrong and you’re not sure what it is. What the hell was he planning tonight?

Once you’re situated comfortably, he starts working on your neck. The two of you had spent an entire evening already focused on just that part of you. He has a map of every spot that drives you crazy. Turns you into a whining mess under him. 

Before you can lose yourself in the indulgence, he’s scraping his nail up your legs. The white hot pain distracting you. You know what the marks look like. Thin lines of flushed skin. They’re marks you’ve worn proudly plenty of times before. Given them to yourself on occasion. 

“Good, good. I was hoping for that.” 

He does it again. Faster, deeper, sharper. You cry out but it’s hardly out of distress. Stretching to look, you see the streaks of red already beginning to bead and run down the sides of your thighs. There was a sick fascination and pride in them. You wanted more. 

His fingers guide you to face him. His usual near blank, curious look was gone. He seemed excited. 

“I brought you a gift.” he says, “But there are conditions. You’re going to be good, quiet, and let me play with it first. After that, you may have it to do with as you please. Understood?”

You nod eagearly. Deathly curious of what he has in store. You don’t need to see it, you just need to hear the click of the switch. The pointed tip of the blade lightly trails down beside the already bleeding stripes on your legs. 

“Red really is a wonderful color on you. Good to know I was right about that too. If you’d be so kind as to indulge me in the future, I’d like to see you in it more often.”

You catalogue every piece of red clothing you own in your mind. Planning outfits for the next two weeks at least. A small, sharp pain to your side brings you back to reality. 

Clearly no one ever taught him to not play with his food. All you are is a piece of meat. Just a bundle of nerves to poke around with. To see what has you twitching while he makes a scene of dragging the blade across your skin. 

Easily cutting through the fabric of your underwear. It’s all about the theatrics of it. A show of how sharp the weapon is. How dangerous of a situation you’re in you don’t behave. 

It creeps scarily close to your neck and you falter, “Six. Stop. I can’t-”

You’re silenced by a pair of fingers being shoved down your throat. It’s harsher than others have done before him. It’s so quick, you have to stop yourself from vomiting. You can focus on little but the fact that you can’t breath and his voice.

“I told you to be quiet.” He growls, increasing the pressure of the knife, which is resting in the crook of your elbow, “How hard is it to follow one rule? You can and will take what I give you.”

He removes his fingers from your mouth. You cough, gasping for air too quickly. 

“No.” You manage to choke out. 

You liked this stuff but there were limits. The mystery was part of it but it also made him untrustworthy. He didn’t see you as a partner. You were a test subject. There was no way to be sure he wouldn’t end you completely just to see what would happen. 

“No?” He repeats, making sure he heard you properly.

You nod, “Scared.”

“Well of course you are. It’s a very human thing to be.” He closes the knife and places it on the bedside table, “Let’s take a break. I suppose I can’t expect you to take something like this all at once without warning.”

_ A break? You never got breaks. _

He stands and helps you to your feet. You’re led slowly to the bathroom. Before you can walk through the doorway, you’re slammed against the wall. The back of your head hitting hard. A hand pressed against your neck. You’re already dizzy but the quickly lessening oxygen was making your head spin. 

“You seem to have forgotten your role in this.” He says.

The hand on your neck keeps you in place. His other hand dips down between your legs. You don’t have the strength to fight it. It feels too good to try. 

“I’m not stupid. I’ve invested too much time into you. Finding another so willing, training them properly, would be such a hassle. I’m not going to break my things. Especially when they’re so responsive.”

He brings his fingers up to his mouth. You watch him taste you. Your core aching at the loss of attention. Reflex tells you to hook your legs around his waist for stability, for closeness but you can’t. You’ve pressed buttons and you’re lucky you’re not already dead for it. It’s unlikely you could lift your legs yourself at this point anyway.

He smiles at you, tilting your head, “I’ll admit though, the defiance isn’t a surprise. If I’m being honest, I’ve been looking forward to it. I was starting to get impatient. It’ll be quite an experience to remind you of your position.”

He throws you the floor. Your elbows and knees take most of the impact. You’re not sure if landing on carpet was all that helpful. The burn was already taking over your limbs. A force from above pushes you down. Chest pressed against the floor. The cuts on your legs screaming.

“I will remind you that you are the one that started this arrangement. Your inability to control yourself. Desperation is rarely an appealing characteristic, but on you, it borders on addictive. Unfortunately for both of us, I’ve grown attached to you. I suspect it’s from the influx of new information I receive when I’m around you. You see, I learn quite a lot about myself during our time together. 

Such as, how much I enjoy the look on your face when you solve a case. How you come to me for validation. That you need me, and me alone, to tell you that you’ve done well. I like the act of rewarding you. 

The way your eyes widen and your pulse quickens when I introduce you to something new. Absolutely terrified but still aroused and excited at the idea. 

There’s a sense of pride that comes when I watch you orgasm. Knowing I’m the one that brought you there. Weak and shattered. Completely lost and gone from the rest of the world. 

Tonight was supposed to be about exploring all the ways I could make you bleed. I knew it would be taxing so I intended to take it slowly and as kind as possible. 

Instead, I’ve learned just how much I like it when you cry. How your body reacts to cruelty. You may not know how much you like it but I assure you, the data doesn’t lie. So, here’s the plan. I’m going to continue to find ways to injure you tonight and by the end of it, you’re going to thank me. Now, you’re going to beg for it like the little slut you are.”

“Six. I’m sorry.” You plead. The weight on your back feels heavier every second.

“Oh, don’t worry dear. I know you are.”

“Please.”

“Please what?”

“Air!” It comes out strained. 

You hear his disappointed sigh but he removes his foot. You gasp and the rush has never felt so good. You choke and cough as oxygen fills your lungs. You can feel the tears he seems to love so much running down your face. 

“Thank you.” 

You try to turn your head to look at him but a hand pins you to the carpet. His legs on either side of your waist, there’s no escape for you. He twists his wrist so your cheek starts to burn against the carpet. At least you could breath. 

“Shut up. If you can’t follow instructions properly, you’re not going to speak at all.” 

You can just barely see him lean in closer. His fingers take hold of your hair. You feel the twisting and tugging before he wrenches your head up off the floor. 

“Let this serve as a reminder to you. This is what you’ve asked for. The pain you feel is something you’ve requested. You put yourself here because you feel this is what you deserve, and I can’t help but agree. 

A reminder that I am generous. I have no need for you. You are a hobby. A past time. A pet project. If you expect my interest to withstand your attitude, you are sorely mistaken. If you wish for this relationship to continue, you would be wise to remember that as it stands, you are mine. I will treat you exactly the way I want. I will do the things I want to do or I will leave you here bleeding and unsatisfied. Do you understand?”

You make a noise you hope he takes as agreement. His grip loosens but doesn’t leave. 

“Good. Now prepare yourself. I have a few things I've been waiting to try.”


End file.
